To Serve Man
by The Countess of Monte Cristo
Summary: One shot. What happens when a human-eater has dinner with a half-human?


Kurama retired to his chambers after the trying conversation he had just had with Yomi. His secret was out, his darkest sin, his greatest regret, had been brought to light. In truth, Yomi had taken the revelation much better than Kurama had expected. He hadn't even so much as threatened bodily harm to him. But that brutal power play was still grating on his nerves. Yomi had threatened his family, taken advantage of his one weakness to ensure his loyalty. What a fool he was, had he simply asked for Kurama's help he would have provided it readily, for the guilt of his betrayal still weighed heavily on his soul. Kurama would show the lord just how much loyalty blackmail provided.

He allowed himself to flop gracelessly on the top of the opulent bed. It was large enough for twenty people his size, canopied, and decorated with silk sheets and soft, thick comforters. Down pillows of all shapes and sizes adorned its surface. It was a certifiable sea of silken waves of blankets and pillowed buoys.

The room itself was just as decadent as the bed. Rich tapestries of brilliant colors graced the walls as did mosaics and carvings of floral designs. An oak desk stood by French doors leading to a spacious balcony. A copious bathroom, complete with all the amenities necessary for proper hygiene, was opposite the balcony. By his bedside was a small bookshelf filled with thick leather and velvet bound books, spines inlayed with gold filigree. On top of the bookcase was a vase of the most brilliant red roses. Upon entering the room for the first time, he had allowed himself a small frown of distaste at the flowers. They were cut and thus dying. Perhaps, that fact didn't occur to Yomi, but more than likely it had.

Yomi had taken care in dictating the decorating of the room to Kurama's preferences, and perhaps he would have enjoyed it, if it didn't feel so much like a prison. Comfortable and beautiful, it was still a cage dressed in fine furnishing and lavish comforts.

Kurama buried his head in a large pillow, stifling the need to scream in frustration (for Yomi would hear it). When an old ally you had betrayed traps you into his service, you don't take it lightly.

Just as Kurama was about to drift into a fitful sleep, still fully clothed, a knock at his door roused him from his semi-conscious state. Sighing, Kurama straightened his uniform and proceeded to answer the door. A servant stood before him, bowing deeply.

"Lord Yomi requests that you dine with him this evening, sir," the servant explained, straightening up.

"Requests…or _orders_?" Kurama asked darkly, already knowing the answer.

"It would be unwise, sir…to deny Lord Yomi," the servant stammered nervously, fearful of the "shooting of the messenger" should Kurama disobey.

Kurama took a deep, steadying breath and let it out in a huge sigh. "Very well, lead the way."

He followed the meek attendant down large hall after large hall before reaching an impressive entryway that framed a grand dining hall. Yomi sat at the head of a large table with the only other place setting at the seat directly to his right. The servant bowed out of the room, as Kurama moved hesitatingly into it.

"Please, join me," Yomi said motioning to the chair beside him as if this were some great privilege he was treating Kurama to and not a perverse request. Why had he invited him to dinner when he had just learned of his betrayal and promptly blackmailed him into submission? Sensing an ulterior motive and trying his best to mask his displeasure and discomfort, he gracefully lowered himself into the seat, shifting in his chair so as to move his body as far from the king as he could while remaining in the within it. Yomi smirked as if he had caught this gesture.

"I feel as if we have started out on the wrong foot, Kurama. Allow me to make amends by treating you to a nice meal, we can catch up…" There was a tension in the air even at his light and seemingly innocent words.

"You already know everything about the life I've led since I left, I hardly see what we need to 'catch up' on,'" Kurama insisted coolly, now staring at the silver platter in from of him with trepidation.

"You aren't interested in how I clawed my way to power?" he asked in amusement.

"Yomi, the past is in the past where it belongs, you should be more concerned about the future and this war that looms before you," Kurama retorted, exasperated.

"I see, well one more piece of housekeeping…are your rooms to your liking? I took great care in specifying how they should be arranged."

"They are indeed very pleasant, but they would be more so were they not just a gilded cell. Enough of this, these pleasantries grow tiresome and transparent. Why is it that you have called me here?" Kurama was very cross, and he did not try to shield his aggravation. Yomi could set him off like no other.

Yomi chuckled dryly, motioning for a servant to fill their goblets with what was no doubt the finest wine in all the Makai.

"Please, Kurama, drink. Relax. Just because I have forced your hand in this matter does not mean that we cannot be amiable to one another," the king replied, lifting the crystal to his mouth and taking a long slip.

"I'm not about to get drunk and forget where we stand," Kurama intoned emotionlessly, not moving to pick up the glass. "You are my grudging employer, things cannot be as they used to…the both of us effectively ended any chance of that."

Kurama tried hard to hide the note of regret he felt because of this, but he knew that Yomi, with his keen hearing, would be able to pick up on his rueful tone. In addition to that, he was just so weary. He couldn't remember ever feeling so worn out.

"As you say, Kurama. Well, then we might as will begin our meal," Kurama looked back at the foreboding sliver dish in from of him once more. Yomi had been distracting him; he hadn't allowed the thought to form within his mind. He knew what Yomi liked to eat…but he wouldn't _dare_…

A servant approached them and removed the silver covers from their dishes. Kurama eyed his plate critically; it appeared to be some type of meat dish in a rich and hardy crimson sauce…or what Kurama prayed with all his heart was sauce. His heartbeat involuntarily sped up with no hope of concealing it from the perceptive king.

"Yomi, what is this?" Kurama rasped hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry.

"Why, it's a delicacy. If memory serves the both of us were quite fond of it, though we rarely had occasion to partake of it."

Kurama felt ill. He roughly shoved the plate away and took deep gulps of air, trying to still his stomach that was currently threatening to heave. He closed his eyes and took shallow breaths for the smell of the meat invaded his senses.

"Yomi, you bastard!" Kurama whispered harshly, breathless and slightly green around the edges.

"Ah, that one charming word you reserve only for me," Yomi rejoined amusedly.

"How dare you…this is repulsive…revolting," Kurama was fighting down the bile in his throat threatening to escape, but he would not suffer such an indignity in Yomi's presence.

"How dare _I_?" Yomi's anger snapped out before him, nearly knocking Kurama down and out. "You are the one…" Yomi abruptly stopped when he saw how pale he must have looked; Kurama could feel his aggravation wane.

Kurama slumped against the table, the combined weight of his guilt, fear, revulsion, and stress finally reaching its breaking point and exhausting him. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a restful night's sleep…it must have been before Yusuke had died. While he had come back from the dead, the sight of his lifeless body had burned itself into his mind forever. He was taking on too much, and it has taken its toll on his regretfully weak human body.

"Kurama…?" Yomi spoke softly, concern on the fringes of his voice. He placed a hand on Kurama's shoulder, and Kurama attempted to shrug it off but only managed a feeble twitch.

"I had not meant to upset you so. I was hurt, so I childishly wished to lash out at you…are you well?" Yomi's voice sounded as if it was coming from the very end of a very long tunnel, but even still Kurama could hear the earnest and worry.

Kurama mumbled something unintelligible even to himself and went completely limp. He numbly felt his head hit the table with a loud thump. He heard the rustle of clothing as Yomi rose from his seat. He felt his arm being lifted and placed with careful gentleness across broad shoulders. He was being lifted, carried away from the vile odor of cooked flesh by strong, powerful arms.

* * *

><p>Kurama awakened then next morning in his bed to find a large bouquet of flowers at his bedside. It was an assortment of multi-colored blossoms, and in the language of the flowers they spoke far more than the reticent demon who sent them. Six strong and hardy hyacinths for the border of the bouquet expressed sorrow filled regret and the desire for forgiveness. Three stems of daffodils entwined with these, and they spoke of respect. Six stems of red and cinnamon roses claimed to be ashamed of the wrong committed and gave apology without pretentions. Daisies came next, six claiming loyalty. Forget-Me-Nots followed these speaking of fond memories of a past long gone. And in the very center was a mauve rose, asking the recipient if they still cared for the sender.<p>

Kurama picked up the mauve bloom and inhaled its aromatic fragrance. He whispered softly, shaking his head, "Oh, Yomi…you are a fool. This can only end badly."

_A/N So this just randomly came to me while re-watching the Three Kings Saga. I always thought that the best way for Yomi to freak Kurama out would be to invite him to dinner with human on the menu. It was just a jibe for Yomi to get some well deserved revenge._


End file.
